Of Dragons and Elves
by Archiril
Summary: Some creatures are good and some are evil. It's as simple as that -isn't it? AU/OC
1. The Sun

**Please review these chapters. It's my first story, and I know it isn't that good, and I'd like to have some tips. Thank you!**

_Bohemienne_

_No one knows where my story begins _

_Bohemienne_

_I was born on a road that bends _

_Bohemienne, bohemienne _

_Come tomorrow, I'll wander again _

_Bohemienne, bohemienne_

_Here's my fate in the lines of my hands _

_(Song of the Bohemienne, english version of the musical Notre Dame de Paris)_

King Elessar, ruler of Gondor, smiled when he looked up from the papers he was reading. A clear elvish song floated through the open window and sparkled in the small, but cosy room that Eowyn had pointed hem. He already stayed in Rohan for two weeks, and when the trade negotations would prove to be lucrative, he could be back in Minas Tirith next week. Just in time to see the arrival of the Nymphs, the elven folk that had been called after the legendary creatures who roamed Arda, invisible, safe for the flowers and the smell of spring that they brought with them. Like those fairies, the Nymphs also wandered across Middle-Earth, now visiting the Golden Wood, then crossing the desert of the Haradrim or camping outside the walls of Edoras. And next week they would set up their colourful tents at the fields of Pelennor.

A new, joyous song was raised from outside. Legolas had been singing all day long, tempting his friend to leave those musty trade reports and to spend some time riding together. The elf was extremely excited nowadays. No wonder, actually. His mother had been one of Nymphs, and before she sailed, she had often taken Legolas with her to roam with her people, in happier times, before the shadows had fallen over this world. After the resurrection of evil however, the Nymphes had disappeared, only to turn up again with the destruction of Sauron. And now they were visiting the White City.  
>An extremely loud tone made Aragorn grimace. It wasn't very probable Legolas would rend him some rest before he had given in to his wishes. With an amused-annoyed expression, he shouted to the invisible voice.<p>

"Alright, you stubborn wood-elf, you win! Just give me some time to change clothes." The song stopped abrupt and made place for a bright laughter. "I'll make the horses ready!"

A few minutes later –thanks to the many incitements of Legolas- two powerful steeds of the Rohirrim were trotting through the vast Fangorn Forest. Aragorn sat on a simple, comfortable saddle, while Legolas rode only with a blanket, and silvery bells that were clinging merrily. Aragorn sighed contently.  
>"You were right my friend. It feels unbelievably good to be away form those dull councillors for a moment. They may know all the tricks of the trade, but they do not see anything besides it. For them, the world only contains numbers and percentages. They can not see the beauty."<p>

"Few mortals do, Aragorn." Puzzled, the king turned to his friend.

"What do you mean?" Legolas glanced a short moment at his face, gauging. When he spoke, he sounded thoughtful.

"Every time ambassadors of Dal visited the court of my father, I wondered why they complained so much. When it rained, they cursed the tears from heaven. When the sun shined, they jerked back from her golden caress, because sometimes, she doesn't know her strength. They hated the snow and swear against the wind. And every time the Winter Queen visits these lands, they hide in their dusty cottages. As if they can appreciate nothing that Iluvatar gifts them. Most of the splendour Arda holds, seems to be hidden, lost for them." His words trailed off. Aragorn thought of his own people, back in Minas Tirith, and he had to admit that he couldn't deny the truth of Legolas words. Silently, they rode on.

But the folly, elvish character that swims in Legolas' blood can not be silenced long.

So it was that, as they had come by a glinstering pool Aragorn hardly had the time to take in the swift movements besides him, before he was drawn from his horses and lanced into the cool water. White bubbles raised besides him and stroked his skin, and for a moment, the world was quiet, safe for a foaming noise. Then he broke again through the surface and spitted a mouthful water back in the pool, glaring angrily at the elf, who was laughing so hard that he almost fell in the pool too.

"I didn't know you liked Ulmos fairies so much that you wanted to accompany them, Estel!" he finally managed to utter, just seconds before Aragorn drawned him next to him and pushed him down. Sputtering, he re-entered the world of air. He only laughed louder. Aragorn groaned.

"Really, Legolas, I do not know what had gotten into you, but you're extremely annoying these days!"

"Sîdh, gwador nin (Peace my brother). Please allow me to express my joy. In a few days, I will meet my family again, that has been long lost. Already I can hear their blood calling for me. It will be a mighty reunion, mellon nin (my friend)!"

"Off course you may be excited, but do you really have to express your joy by pushing me into the water?"

"Is there a better way then? You look so funny when you're unexpectedly wet."

Giggling, he managed to escape Aragorns flailing arms and crawled to the sides of the pool.

A few hours later, they were drying in the warmth of the setting sun.

"You have to accompany me to the feast, Estel. It will be a remarkable evening."


	2. A Breeze

Legolas was right. The feast was beyond anything ever organised in the lands of men. Silvery and golden light from the torches entwined beneath the starlit heaven, and moon-drops rained down on the glowing faces of the elves, who were dancing, laughing or, as Legolas did, just talking with their friends and flirting with the maidens.

And Estel had to admit –objectively, mind you!- that the female company was extremely pretty this evening.

They were seated in a circle around one of the many fires that were unlit in different colours –Legolas told that they throw some kinds of flowers over the wood, before setting it on fire, so that they burned in a specific glue. Their flames were green, in honour of the Prince of the Woodland-Realm, who was sitting on the opposite side. Next to him sat a scout –wasn't her name Isis or some kind?-, dressed in a silken tunic and green, tight trousers. She had beautiful, raven dark hair and intense, green eyes and when she giggled, clear bird sang could be heard.

And Legolas made sure she had often reason to giggle.

Looking at the light-hearted bantering, Aragorn wondered if they were in love. Both looked very pleased with each others company, but none dared to go further then a soft poke. He should speak with his elven friend of this, Estel decided, but not tonight. Tonight, he only wanted to be here, now, at the present, without worries about the past, his realm or his future with Arwen. A little drowsy he looked at his wife next to him, his friends and the other Nymphs –Legolas' brother Viren and his sister Lyriel, the horse-merchant Laurelaïs and the sorceress Ithinen- and suddenly he felled a strange compulsion to laugh –so he did. Left and right of him, the hobbits, Gimli, Eomer en Eowyn joined, and even the always so serious Faramir couldn't suppress his mirth.  
>Then he felled a warm hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes, wondering why he was lying in the grass –had he fallen then?- and stared directly in Legolas fair elven face. His friend looked a little concerned.<p>

"Why don't you walk a while with me? I want to show you something," he asked gently.

"No Legolas!" -to his surprise, he couldn't articulate as well as he remembered, but who cares? - "You wanted to drag me to your feast. Now, I am here, and I'm not going anywhere! It's awfull! Besides, I wouldn't want you to be separated from your love." Grinning, he saw Legolas' face turning red.

"Isn't she? She is beauty, Elda, believe an expert! I wouldn't let her go! Moreover…" Hastily, the elf cut him off.

"Shut your mouth, Adan, and come with me." A little roughly, he drew Estel on his feets and helped him –with a stern look at his laughing friend and an excusing one to Isis- out of the camp. Again, Aragorn had to notice the ground undulated beneath his feet. Gratefully, he clung unto Legolas' arms.  
>Not far from the last tents, near a pure creek, the elf finally stopped. Ungracefully Estel sank on the ground.<p>

"What did you want to let me see?" he jabbered.

"Nothing is special. I only had to get you out of there, before you reeled more nonsense off." Legolas smiled at Estels indignant grimace.

"But it is true, isn't it? You do love her!" he pressed on.

"We will discuss this when you're again sober. For now, I would like you to sum up the Kings of Numenor. Only when you're capable to do it, we will return to the feast." He silenced Aragorns starting protest by putting up one finger. "Hush, mellon nin. Normally, Adani aren't allowed to attend such elvish celebrations. You were allowed because I asked it, but now I see Ithinen was right. The magic that is created while we're feasting, makes us elves only a bit drunk, but men can lose their soul in her. You have to trust me on this, Estel. Stay here till you have summed up the Numenorean line. Then you can return."  
>A bit grumpy, Aragorn complied.<p>

He didn't make it however. Soothed by the murmering river and Legolas steadfast presence, he slumbered. So deep was his sleep, that he even didn't notice two soft arms picking him up and carrying him into a tent, where the others were already sleeping. And he didn't hear Ithilnen calling for Legolas, or the heathed discussion that followed a while later. And he didn't see the worried expression on the elf's frowned face when he returned to watch over his slumbering friend, until the sun arose.


	3. White Clouds

A few days later -after he had delivered his friends safely and whole in their chambers-, a setting sun painted the sky in red and bright pink colours, until she lost the battle against the night and had to recede to give the dark, nocturnal blue her place between the silvery stars. It was a magnificent sight, but Legolas, standing high above Minas Tirith, paid no heed to it. Instead, he watched his friends, his family gathering their belongings to resume their wanderings. Nymphs can't be hold in one place for a long time.

Deep in his heart, the desire slowly grew to follow his kin. How he longed for that freedom, just to leave these stony walls and the smell that arose from the Lower City behind, to flee with the falcons above the waving grasses or jump with the squirrels through the evergreen forests, to be one with nature and Arda's song again! And to be with Isis…

Perhaps Estel was right. Perhaps he really loved her… but he didn't dare to risk their sweet friendship by confessing her his feelings. Maybe later, when they would be riding together, as they used to do, in happier days... But when would that be? Would he ever get the chance again to roam this world with his people? Or would he fade away, disappear across the sea, never to return, never to wander. How his heart desired to follow his folk now!

But he couldn't. Estel… his lifespan was so short. He would never turn his back on his best friend by deserting him. Afterwards, when Estel was… gone, perhaps then… but not now. Besides, he had something else now to worry about in the White City. Slowly, his eyes turned towards the Commons, where _it_ has been hidden. He hoped that the walls and some simple elvish spells would be enough to deceive curious staring. What would happen what_ it_ was be discovered... he preferred not to think about it!

"Legolas!"

As swift as lightning, the elf turned around. Faramir, who had become a very good friend of him, stalked to him with great steps. Quickly, he tried to hide his guilty expression.

"Faramir," he greeted, "what news from Rohan?" The men had visited the homeland of his wife Eowyn a few weeks ago, and apparently they just arrived back in Gondor.

"Nothing special. The city flourishes, the horses are still powerful, and Eomer is regarded as a wise and brave king, and winner of most drinking contests."

Legolas grinned. He could well remember his own match with the marshal and Gimli. Though he had won, he had never told somebody that he too actually had been swaying drunkly – fortunately, less striking than his contenders, but still, he didn't recall precisely how he turned up in his soft bed that evening.  
>Faramir's next words seemed to complete his thoughts.<p>

"However, a story goes around that one day, a commander challenged Eomer. Obviously, our self-assured friend accepted and that night, many of the honey-beer-filled barrels were emptied, until the commander had to give up –after he fell three times of his chair. Nevertheless, when one of the maidens wanted to offer Eomer a precious chalice as tibute, he was nowhere to be found. It wasn't until later, when the sun climbed over the edge of the world, they found the king, lying somewhere beneath the straw in the stables. He never explained how he got there."

A sparkling laughter exploded. Tears of joy emerged from Legolas' eyes and he barely could hold himself upright. Faramir looked a moment stunned at the laughing elf, and then joined. Double-bent, they both gasped for air, threw a look at each other and burst again in laughter. It took several moments before the could calm down.

"I actually do not understand what was so funny," Faramir grinned, whipping the tears from his cheeks. Legolas didn't dare to answer, fearing a new wave of laughing would claim him again.

That moment, Eowyn also walked towards the two friends near the White Tree."What's so funny?" she asked innocently. Immediately, Legolas sneezed, while Faramir was trying to hide his broad grin –in vain. Sniggering, they couldn't say anything anymore.

However, as Eowyn approached, the elf slowly sobered, and a surprised expression emerged on his face. Attentively, he stared at Eowyn's belly, missing the proud look Faramir and the woman exchanged.

"Eowyn, are you… are you…pregnant?" the elf stammered stunned. Beaming, she nodded. Then she became curious.

"How did you know? I am not yet that far that one could see it."

"I have felt it. She's part of Arda's song, and I can hear her melody."

"Is it a girl?"

"Yes," Legolas nodded smiling, "a wonderful, healthy girl. Congratulations, you both! Pity my folk has left. Otherwise, they would have organised a splendid feast! But until they have returned, you'll have to be content with me. I think I'll bring Arwen and Aragorn the wonderful news."

Laughing, he ran away, leaving the tow young parents some time together. In his mind, he was already forming a plan. He could write a letter to Mithrandir to ask for some firework. The hobbits, who would visit the town in a few days -a fortunate coincidence-, could compose a menu. Arwen en Aragorn certainly would want to decorate the palace. And he could go to Ithilien and ask some of the artist to perform something on the feast. Perhaps Archiril and Nenniel…

Suddenly, he hit upon another idea. In the upheaval he should be able to fetch a small amount of food from time to time– unnoticed. That would be the solution of a riddle he had been thinking over since he had received _it_. Aragorn would never agree to give some food for _it_. In fact, it was more probable that _it_ had to be removed immediatly out of the city -if he discovered _it_. But when this day a bread dissapeared, the next day some flesh and the other a smalle barrel of water... Between the huge staples of provisions for the feast, it hopefully wouldn't be obvious. And he really would need food when _it_ happened.


	4. Grey Clouds

**I'm sorry it's rather short, but it's just a preamble for the next chapter. Thanks for reading!**

Carriage after carriage arrived rattling at the court, where, in an endless row, servants took the provisions for the feast on. The cellar where all the food had been stocked, was already rather full, but the queue of wagons didn't seem to halt. Aragorn and Arwen truly had been generous.

It was there that Faramir found Legolas. The elf was looking intently at the maelstrom of activity, as if he was absorbing the smallest details.

"Legolas! Good I find you here!" Faramir greeted friendly, but he was startled by the elf's friend jumped up, turned around, even brought his hand to his knife before realising it was the steward who were standing before him. Immediately, Legolas tried to compose a relaxed attitude, but a deep red blush coloured his cheeks.

"Faramir. did you search me?" His voice was artificially spontaneous.

"Are you alright?" the steward questioned. This was already the second time that the elf hadn't heard him coming. This inattention was nothing for the elvish warrior. But Legolas didn't give in.

"Off course, Faramir," he parried mellifluently, "what could there be wrong? Now, how may I help you?"

Reluctantly, Faramir let the matter go. In time he would get his answer, he knew. Elves couldn't lie, especially not to his friends. Therefore, he limited himself to asking his original question.

"I just wondered whether you received any answer from those musicians form Ithilien. I do not mean to force them off course, it's just… I like elvish singing."

Legolas only nodded and smiled. He knew Faramir's love for anything that was elvish, since the steward had come to help him heal Ithilien's woods. Sure, he had no magical gifts nor could he understand the tree's languages, but his love and respect for the realm was obvious, and Legolas had enjoyed working with him.

"You need not fear, my friend. Archiril and Nenwen will come tomorrow, the best singers we have. They sent me a message yesterday. I wanted to tell you about it, but I cou- didn't see you." It was clear the elf initially wanted to say something else, but Faramir decided also to leave this be. Perhaps, if he had asked more about it, it all would have turned out differently. But history can not be rewritten.

"Great!" he gloated, "by the way, how long are you standing here already?"

"A couple of minutes. Why?" Legolas answered shortly.

"Nothing. Food has been stolen for over a week. I wondered whether you had seen something unusual?"

"No."

Faramir was a bit taken aback by this flat tone, but again he said nothing.

"Alright then. But would you mind keeping an eye open? I don't like the thought of thieves within these walls.

"I will."

"Fine." Faramir hesitated, but he had nothing else to say, so he dropped the matter and took his leave. There were other things to do yet. Many other things. And so the noon passed without leaving a trace, and he forgot about the conversation until later.

Legolas however stayed for some time watching over the activity, and then went away. Nobody really knew where headed to, but some say they saw an elf in the Lower City.

But what business should one of the Fair People have to do there?


	5. A storm

The warmth and the pleasant smell of horses overwhelmed her, when he took her in a close embrace.

"Eowyn, my little niece. How glad I am for you! For you both! Why didn't you tell me while you were still in Rohan?" Eomer's deep voice came muffled through her hair.

"I didn't know it yet. Actually, I discovered it a day before Legolas did," she anwered, pulling him closer. It was strange how she missed him, despite the fact that is was only a few days since she last saw him. Some bonds never loose.

Too soon he let her go, but only to take a close look at her and her belly. Surprised, he lifted his eyebrows.

"By all horses, how did he notice that? You're still as flat as… as… the plains." That wasn't quite a charming observation, but Eowyn was raised with him. She had become quite used to his less poetic vocabulary. Therefore, she just shrugged.

"I don't know. He could hear her singing or some kind."

"Singing? What would a baby know of singing? Elvish witchcraft, I say. He may be a good drinker and honestly, I like him very much, but sometimes, he's too strange for me. Never try to understand them, someone told me, and never try to let them understand you (1)! And he was right." Eomer had never been able to let his vision of the elves as sorcerers and childlike fouls go.

"I wonder whether they think the same about us," Eowyn murmerd silently. Then she spoke louder. "Spoken of Legolas, have you seen him lately? I thought he would be present on the feast he organised, but he seems to have disappeared somewhere between the speeches of Faramir, Aragorn and Sam."

"No, not noticed. He'll probably be by the White Tree again. I heard he loves that place."

Just then, Faramir joined them.

"Eowyn, light of my eyes, fair lady of the grassy plains, might I beg you the pleasure of this company for this dance?" he gallantly begged, and courteously offered her his hand.

"If it pleases you, my lord." Mock-bowing, she let her hand slide into his. Together, they entered the dance floor, where Archiril and Nenwen were enjoying the guests with some cheerful, wood-elvish songs. Soon, the couple was lost to this world, having no eye for anything around them, safe for the other.

However, the world didn't fade away. After a while, Faramir started talking.

"Don't you think Legolas has been acting strangely last days?" Irritated, Eowyn threw her hair in her neck.

"Why I didn't know he's so important! Everybody is been talking about him!" She momentarily forgot to mention that last time, she had picked him as the subject.

"You have to admit that he's rather silent and shy. One day I asked him something and he almost jumped out of the window. He hadn't heard me coming! Can you imagine that? And two days ago, he almost killed me before realizing it was me who had come behind him."

"That's indeed nothing for Legolas," Eowyn responded musing. Thinking further about the topic, she did come across some other strange occurrences.

There had been rumours, telling about growling, snarling noises that had been heard in an old, ramshackle house, standing a bit apart from the others in the city. And smoke coming out from the boarded windows. And regurarly, food had been missing last week. It seems that, since the departure of the Nymphs, something weird was going on in the White City. And somehow, although she trusted the elf with her life, somehow Legolas has something to do with it.

"Tomorrow, we should ask him about it –subtile, mind you! I know you, my lovely flower." Faramir had a predilection for inventing new nicknames.

"Alright, Faramir, you may ask him. I'll just shut my mouth."

"Thank you, my little bird." (Sometimes he really was exaggerating)

And so the topic was closed, with the decision to leave it be until the next day.

The topic however, refused to obey this decision.

* * *

><p>It was a few hours later. The moon was already fading between the sparkling stars, and quite some men were bragging. There was a reasonable chance that tomorrow, some would end up between the straw in the stables, or somewhere else they shouldn't be. Exhausted, Faramir, Eomer, Eowyn, Aragorn and Arwen sat beside Archiril and Nenwen, who were resting their voices and fingers.<p>

"I'm going for a drink. Somebody wants to join me?" Eomer announced, forcing himself to stand up from his comfortable chair. The others agreed, and so the five friends made their way down, to the cellars, where the best of the wines were kept. The barrels in the feasting hall were already emptied.

They just had entered the frosty room when Arwen stiffened. The others also held in, looking questioning at the she-elf, who was holding her head slightly tilted, as if she was listening.

A few moments went by, and slowly, the humans started to relax.

"What was it?" Eomer asked after a while. Arwen looked unsure.

"I don't know. I thought I heard something."

"Perhaps a rat," Faramir put forward.

"It was to big for a ra- There!" In a flash, she sprung up and started to run after a dark figure, that was now crossing through the corridor. Seconds later the others followed. None however could match the gracious movements of least, not until the dark person threw a barrel from the rows and let them collapse just before her. With no time to act, Arwen hit the wood and fell. Immediately, Aragorn knelt by her, gesticulating to Eowyn and Faramir –Eomer actually had started to run, but the wine was getting him and he had stumbled after a few metres, being forced to give the pursuit up- to catch the intruder.

Within a few breaths, they had left the kingly pair behind and climbed the stairs to the ground floor of the palace. The silhouette seemed to know the way. After a while, Eowyn thought she knew where they were heading to.

"The gardens!" she panted. Faramir only nodded. Together, they turned around the corner… and halted. The figure was nowhere to be found.

* * *

><p>(1) The Last of the Mohicans<p> 


	6. Lightning

**I am truly sorry for the delay. First, I stayed in Andalousië, and when I came back, I had some minor troubles with my computer. We fought it out though, and since I won, I was able to write this chapter. Hope you enjoy it!**

An owl screamed nearby the place where Faramir sat. Attentively, the young captain screened the dark forest before him, looking for something –or someone who might have disturbed the bird, but the night and the shadows of the trees enfolded the gardens in a impenetrable cloak. Perhaps Legolas had been to enthusiastic when he reorganised them after they had been burned down to the ashes in the War. He had turned the once orderly green into a miniature of Eryn Lasgalen, safe for the spiders. And as every forest, the wood of Minas Tirith also sucked darkness as Eomer sucked beer (I'll dwell on that later)

Seconds went by. Nothing moved. Slowly, Faramir allowed himself to relax.

Then, suddenly a horrible noise tormented his Gondorian ears. (This is the part in which I recur to the sentence concerning 'beer' and 'Eomer'.)

Loud, roaring, slow, extremely irritating snores rose from a corner near the Garden Gate. This had been so since Faramir had occupied his position as guardian for the only way in –and way out – of the gardens, but the volume had only raised. Silently, the captain cursed his wife and the kingly pair, who were now calmly scouring the gardens, searching for the mysterious figure, while he had to play babysit for the drunk Eorling.

The young Gondorian captain shot a volley of furious glares the figure lying there, that – were it daggers or flames - could have killed the Witch King himself. Unfortunately for Faramir, and fortunately for Eomer, glances were still nothing but air and feeling, and therefore unable to bring physical harm. And so Eomer slept on, snoring, unaware of the danger he just had escaped.

Faramir sighed and did his best to ignore the snoring –in vain off course, but still, it was a valiantly effort.

At that moment, he saw it. A minimal movement in the left corner of his eye. Swiftly, he turned around a stared attentively at the tree. Some leaves slightly swayed. Then everything stilled again. Whatever had been there, it was there no more.

* * *

><p><em>I don't like this. I really don't. O Valar, how I hate this. <em>This mantra kept on gyrating in her head, while Eowyn walked a small path down to the fountain. At least, she hoped it would let to the water, though she had no idea how far it still was. The abundance of trees made it impossible to look further then five steps. And exactly this closeness she hated so. Sweet Eru, she was raised by the vast plains of Rohan! She needed the width!

So absorbed she was by her thoughts, that she didn't hear the leaves rustling harder than they had done before. She didn't see how some branches above her head bowed under the weight of a dark figure. And she almost didn't notice a vague shadow in the twilight.  
>Almost.<p>

* * *

><p>Strange. It remembered him of years past, this sneaking and searching for traces. He could nearly imagine this forest as Fangorn, or Mirkwood, or one of the other places he had travelled in as Ranger. But never before had he so much trouble following a trace. If not for a single broken blade of grass, or a leave that felt before its time, he would never had a clue.<p>

"Heesheeer! Heesheeer! Heer!" A high, female voice, in a probability that of Eowyn, ripped the silence of the night.

Immediately, Aragorn sprung up and raced for the source of the sound. He cared not for the branches that tangled in his hair, or for the roots that tried to stop him, although he did wonder this resistance. Why did the garden, hìs garden, hinder him?

just before him, the wood opened and revealed a silhouette. Visibly startled, he stopped, no longer than a respiration. Then, he jumped for a branch and swang above Estels head. Shocked, Aragorn halted, staring open-mouthed at the mighty jump.

Behind him, the silhouette graciously landed, rose and resumed his flight in one fluid motion. It was at that moment that Eowyn stormed out of the bushes andbanged against Aragorn. Both felt on the wet ground. Meanwhile, the figure chose to run. Soon, he disappeared.

* * *

><p>"Faramir! He's here!" Loud shouts –they even outvoted the snoring of Eomer- drew the attention of the young captain towards the edge of the forest. Suddenly, the wood was full of life. Creaking, leaves, panting, footsteps, shouting. Then, the trees spit out the mysterious silhouette, closely followed by Aragorn and Eowyn.<p>

Time froze.

Silence.

Waiting.

A hand stretched out.

Grabbing the cloak.

A snook.

Balance forsaken.

The shock in vaguely familiar eyes.

The feeling of velvet against his skin.

Panting.

Smashing on the ground.

Silence.

And then time thew and flew back in its normal course. All of a sudden, Aragorn and Eowyn were there. Estel rougly clasping the intruder, securing he could not escape. The figure resisted briefly, but then accepted his capturing.

All went still, safe for the gasping –and the snoring. They all looked at each other.

Eventually, it was Eowyn who pulled the cap back. For a moment, they al stopped breathing. The silvery starlight felt coolly on the fair face.

"Legolas?"

**That was a surprise, wasn't it? (I hope so) Next chapter will give you more info. Please review!**


	7. Thunder

**Hey! Almost done. I guess one last chapter. Next story will be in dutch, the third again in english. Hope you like this. Lot of things that are now explained ;)**

The Elf looked one more time over his shoulder, to the majestic White City. He had hoped in vain though. No Man, nor woman, nor Dwarf, nor Hobbit was standing on the city walls. No one to wave goodbye to the exiled one. No one to call him back. Only the rain and the wind accompanied him on his way towards the West, so he could leave the vast territory of Gondor.

Silently, he cursed the goddess who had brought him so bad luck. If only his friends hadn't been going to the cellar! If only he had been quicker! If only Faramir hadn't caught him! If only he hadn't received that cursed gift!

He lingered on in the past. The moment after his discovery, they had been shocked and silent...

_Legolas felt a vague feeling of hope. Perhaps if he had the chance to explain this…_

_"Legolas," Aragorn stated again, flatly. There was no question in his voice. He just looked at his friend, with empty eyes. Being sure the elf would explain eventually._

_Unlike Eowyn._

_"What-? Legolas, how-? Why-?" For the first time in her life, the fair lady found herself stammering. The elf just gazed apologetically at her, but before he could say anything, Faramir interrupted._

_"You are the one who has been stealing food." Emotionless. Certain there was a good reason for this._

_"Yes."_

_"Aha." _

_That was the only thing. An expressionless 'aha'. The silence weighed heavily on the company. Legolas could see them staring at him. Aragorns eyes were waiting, while those of Eowyns were filled with confusion. Faramir looked faithfully. Arwen, who had joined them a couple of minutes ago, limited herself to absorbing the situation and keeping silent._

_For seemingly endless minutes they sat there, at the edge of the forest. Eomer finally had turned on his side and had ceased snoring, the Valar be blessed. Then Legolas had broken the silence._

_"There is something I must show you."_

How he regretted those words now! If only he had found the strength to lie! But he knew he would never be able to lie to his friends, even if it would cost him his life. And so, he had led them under the beams of the young sun to the Lower City, where _it _was hidden.

_The archer muttered some elvish words. It was nonsense actually, but nonsense that turned the defensive magic low, so that the five could pass (they had left Eomer in the garden. It wouldn't be the first time the Rohirrim awoke somewhere he couldn't remember how he got there, so they expected not to much trouble when sleep would eventually leave him –not that that would happen within a short time, given the amount of beer he had consumed.)_

_Once Arwen, as last one, had entered, Legolas closed the door. The creaking of the moldy wood sounded horrifying loudly in the silence of the dark chamber. Quickly, the elf reactivated the defence system and waited until the others had examined the room. There wasn't much to see actually. A fallen table, some broken chairs and a single candle._

_And a dragon._

_The following minute Legolas praised himself for being alert enough to raise a mute-spell, so that nobody outside could hear the tumult inside. It took a long time and a lot of conviction from the elf before the others had finally lowered their weapons and listened to his story._

_"You know I belong to the Nymphs. We are wanderers, ever on the road. We did discover countries you can not dream of. Such as Sgianthatchalinae, the Dragon Lake. The place were this little one," Legolas pointed at the dragon, that rested now comfortably on his lap," was born."_

_"Then why didn't it stay there?" Aragorn grumbled. "I will not tolerate foul beasts into my city. They have been here long enough!" All of them could still remember the trolls and orcs that had invaded Minas Tirith during the War of the Ring. But Legolas wasn't ready yet._

_"Peace my friend, I beg you. Let me explain this to you; not every dragon is a dominion of the dark forces. Once there were as much noble as evil ones. The oldest and wisest among them had seen how my people danced for the first time upon Arda. They felt a great love for us, wanderers, and vowed to protect us from the evil that spread from Angband. In this way, a timeless bond has been growing between our kinds, until our destinies were thus woven that for every elvish child there was born, a new dragon too stepped into this world."_

_For a moment, Legolas remained silent, seeing the fair Sgianthatchalinae before his eyes. Though he wasn't born there, the many songs of his people had created it in his mind. It had been a time of great joy, that even could match the beauty of Valinor. He sighed._

_"Alas! Alas. For a long time, a part of my people stayed there, forsaking our destiny as travellers. But the evil didn't rest. And while the West was claimed by the sea, and the First Era ended, and Numenor was gifted to Men, the evil that had been banished from those regions, retreated to our lands and destroyed it, making it a stronghold for Sauron. Only in the Third Era, this would be undone."_

_"So… Mordor was once…" Arwen questioned carefully._

_"Sgianthatchalinae, indeed. But Sauron ruined it. He destroyed my kind, and with them, the nobles dragons. Only a handful of my people could flee. My mother was one of them. They sought their refuge by the Nymphes who hadn't lingered on in Sgianthatchalinae. After a few years, when they reached Eryn Lasgalen, she fell in love with the king of the wood and stayed there. And died there. The blood of the other survivers was mingled with those of the Nymphs who hadn't stayed. And so, our bond with the dragons was lost. They still lingered near their home country, but they were being taunted by the evil, and turned to the dark powers."_

_"So, what's that still doing here?" Faramirs disgusted voice didn't leave much room for imagination. He hated everything that had something to do with the darkness that had plagued his Gondor for such a long time._

_"Did I say all dragons were lost? No, the dragon-companion of my mother gave her her last egg, in a sign of confidence. After my mother chose for a life in Eryn Lasgalen, the egg went to the Nymphs, for only they understood the true nature of dragons. The Silvan only felt, and still feel, suspicion for the mighty animals." Just then, Lebenlhach chose to sneeze. He curled himself a little tighter up and hid his snout beneath Legolas' arm._

_"Then why do you have it here?" This time, it was Eowyn who interrupted. Irritated, the elf glanced at his listeners._

_"If I would be able to finish my tale, you would know it." He waited a little while, but nobody said anything, so he went on._

_"My people felt the destruction of the Ring. They decided to go back tot Sgianthatchalinae and see what is left from it. Perhaps we could even heal some of the wounds." Legolas clearly saw the unbelievably faces, but he ignored them. It was never bad to have hope. "However, they do not want to risk the innocence of this one here. That's why they gave the egg to me. Unfortunately, it hatched a day after my family departed. I didn't dare to tell you. That's why I fetched some food. He can chase little animals, such as rats, but there aren't enough to keep him from starving. Please, Estel, give him a chance!"_

But, though his friends could find some sympathy, the high lords of Gondor didn't. They required that the dragon would be killed, or that both of them had to leave. And thus it happened.

One last look behind. And he saw them. His friends. They stood there, watching him. He raised one hand in a final salute, then he turned around and parted.

* * *

><p>It hurt.<p>

Watching his best friend being banished from his own city, and being incapable to prevent it.

"You have been a fool, Legolas. Why didn't you just tell me? I would have helped you," Aragorn silently cursed.

And he knew the others had similar feelings. They had al spoken fiercely in favor of Legolas before the Counsel, although in vain. Even the normally timid Sam had set up a eloquent speech about the honesty of the elves and some examples of good dragons (although Aragorn suspected part of it was based on terms of 'probability'; it is probable that dragons can be honest, so it is probable that they tried to trade flesh for gold, so it is probable that there were trade routes in the past between the Free People and the dragons.) Merry and Pippin had even gone so far that the high lords had threatened to remove them from the Great Hall. And Eomer - once he was sober again - had proclaimed the land of Rohan fully trusted Legolas, and that they were fools not doing the same.

Still, the decision stayed the same. Legolas and Lebenlhach were banished. And now he saw them departing, not to return in a very long time.

One last look. A final greeting.

Then he retreated from the balcony. He had now other matters to attend to. The raising power of the Corsairs, for example. They could be threatening for the peace one day. He had to halt their fabrication of weapons and ships, but in a way of diplomacy. Or searching for a peaceful solution. And holding on to the hope Legolas would one day return.

**Please review!**


	8. Rain

**Last chapter. Thanks to those who did review! It really did encourage me. Well, this is the last and longest part of the story. if it's necessary, I can write an epilogue, but I think this is a nice moment to stop. The last image I got partly out of the film 'Dragonheart'.  
><strong>**As I said before, next story will be in dutch, the next then in english. Hope to see you soon! **

The sky was no longer blue, but grey. The plains were no longer green, but red. The river wasn't clear anymore, but filled with wreckage. No sun there was to be seen, but smoke, dark and asphyxiating.

Arwen shivered. Her sensitive elven-ears could hear the earth screaming in despair for this new torturing, so short after the other, in the War of the Ring. The shrill cries pained her. With a livid face, she turned away from the battlefield, that was now being visited by the night and Death. The living had since sunset escaped this place of horror, some to the tents and boats of the Corsairs, others to the White City. Only the dead remained.

"Such sadness," Eowyns voice whispered behind her. The shield maiden was still staring with wide eyes to the place where the battle had raged. "How could it come to this?"

It was a question that was ubiquitous in the City. Everything had been so fine… The trade routes had been extended and very often used. Several friendship treaties had flourished between Gondor and the other regions of Middle-Earth. The art of the Dwarfs, the ale of Man and the singing of Elves had mixed freely. Middle-Earth had seemed even more blessed than in the times of Numenor, when there was still Sauron to remember.

But meanwhile, the Corsairs had licked their wounds, as a wounded tiger, until they were ready to strike back.

And striking back they did.

On a beautiful summer's day, a day that was made for pleasure and love and feasting, the ships had turned up. Half of the city had been by the river at that time, the mothers washing and chattering, the children playing, the men bathing and laughing. They had been taken by surprise.

It had been a massacre.

The first, chaotic minutes, nobody had had enough sense to even try to _think _about defending himself. And the Corsairs hadn't made any difference between man, woman or child. The river had been flowing red for days.

The Valar be blessed, at some point the soldiers had seemed to remember their training. They had set up a defence line to protect their families and gain time for time to make it into the city. Only then, they had rejoined them. Faramir, Gimli, Eomer and Aragorn had been the last to enter the First Level.

And that day, the siege had started. Every day, the united forces of Gondor and Rohan stormed out of the gates to expel the Corairs, and every day, the Corsairs held their ground. The torturing was endless. Already, the fine artwork of the Dwarfs on the First, Second, and partly the Third Level was destroyed, and the gifts that Legolas – thank Eru he wasn't here to experience this downfall – had brought, the trees and the flowers, were used to nourish the people. And still, the Corsairs didn't leave, and the city didn't surrender. It was a clash of titans, and nobody would be victorious where so much suffering was provoked.

"Let's go inside, Arwen," Eowyn interrupted her dark thoughts. "Let's welcome our husbands back. We may be glad they returned."

"Yet so many others will mourn tonight the loss of their fathers or husbands," whispered the Elf silently, unhearable for Eowyn, who was walking down towards the palace.

* * *

><p>A red sunrise. The bright jewel of heaven seemed to have absorbed all blood that had been spilled during the siege that now was going on for several weeks.<p>

At least, this time they saw the sun, Aragorn thought wryly. Normally, she would be hidden behind the clouds. Even Aurien seemed to be curious what this new day would bring.

He looked down at his troops. Every day, their numbers declined. There were even wounded who insisted on fighting on, for their homes and their families. Aragorn had given them a place behind the archers, as a kind of reserve. When the first lines faltered, and the semi-unarmed archers were exposed to the steel of the Corsairs, the wounded could fight off the attack –for a while. It would at least buy them some time to reorganise the army.

If it would come that far. That was the trouble. The Corsairs were skilful in the art of war. They were deceptive and dextrous with their weapons. There was no possibility to foresee the development of the day.

A horn blared. Aragorn looked up and saw the Corsairs advancing. Their dark weaponry casted a shadow on the fields and halved the sun. He waited.

Waited.

They crossed the mark of two yards.

Waiting.

One and a half yard.

Waiting.

One yard.

Waiting.

Three-quarter yard.

He nodded to Faramir. Immediately, the banners went up. A roar arose. The cavalry stormed across the plains, while a cloud of arrows whizzed above their heads. The spearman stood ready to await the return of the horseman, and the Corsairs that would follow in their lead.

A new day of battle had begun.

* * *

><p>"Watch out! Kailin! Watch out!" Just in time, the young Gondorian soldier kneeled, before the spear could enter his flesh. He screamed a swift gratitude back to the nameless man who had just saved his life, and continued fighting.<p>

A Corsair took up the duel with him. He was still young, his adversary. And good. But Kailin was better still, thanks to the lessons of a certain elf. Legolas, his name had been, before he was banished from the city, because of an unknown crime. Kailin couldn't imagine the fair being doing anything dark, but who was he to question the decisions of the king and the Council? It had hurt him though, to watch his master go, so forlorn. During their daily, hidden sparring, a bond had grown between them, one that only can be created by a shared secret.

The Corsair charged. His sword dove as an eagle towards Kailins head. Every soldier would have parried the blow with a horizontal whack, only to expose their chest to the second, covert blade that most Corsairs carried.

Every soldier who hadn't been trained by an elf.

Kailin ducked, dodged and stroke in one elegant movement. His enemy was dead before he touched the ground.

He suspected it was exactly this tricky part of his character that had drawn Legolas' attention, though he would never know for sure. Do not go to the elves for council. Anyway, after his training, the elf had suddenly appeared next to him, and had offered him to teach him some elvish techniques. No further explanation. But he would be a fool not to accept such an opportunity. And thus their daily lessons had started, in secret, because Kailin didn't want anybody –and especially not his mother- to know that he was in teaching by an elf. There was still much misunderstanding towards the ethereal creatures.

Another enemy. Another trick. Another dead man. The fight went on and on. Kailin completely lost himself in the tide of the battle, attacking with the flood, roaring with the breakers, retreating with the ebb.

And then, suddenly, a storm rose. The waves hit him with an incredible force. He fell out of his trance, his pattern and stared at the arrow that had punctured his shoulder. Sharply, he could see every detail of the weapon. The markings on the shaft. The black feathered end. The blood that was dripping down from his shoulder upon his chest and legs.

Strange.

There wasn't any pain. He thought it would have hurt.

But before he could ponder upon this remarkable absence of pain, a Corsair noticed his vulnerability. Just in time, Kailin could fight off the attack. He grunted as his movement shot a flash of fire through his vains. So far the blessed insensibility of the shock. Cautiously, the two circled around each other. The Gondorian boy gave himself a brief moment to evaluate the situation. What he saw startled him. Only Corsairs there were to be seen. Where was the rest of his legion? Where were the other Gondorians?

And then, he saw it. Or rather, he felt it. A cool eclipse of the blood-sun. Forgetting everything for a moment, Kailin looked up, trying to find the source of this icy silence that had fallen over the battlefield, and froze.

No.

No.

Impossible.

A dragon.

* * *

><p>"Noro lim, Lebenlhach! Noro lim!" Legolas moaned. The wind was flogging his face, tugging on his hair, blowing the tears out of his eyes, but still, to the elf it seemed they were hanging motionless above the battlefield. Behind them, the Nymphs marched on. They wouldn't fight, they had never fought, but they would aid the wounded and divide food and water.<p>

Legolas and Lebenlhach however, had other plans.

Nearly a week ago, the news had trickled into their protected world. Minas Tirith, the great city of king Elessar and queen Arwen, was under attack. It had taken almost two hours to calm Legolas down, enough at least to figure out what they had to do, otherwise, he would just have stormed towards his friends. The council was still going on when a second, even more disastrous message reached the camp.

The Corsairs had a dragon.

The brother of Lebenlhach. Apparently, the Darkness had succeeded in stealing one more egg from the friend of Lindariel, Legolas' mother, and had created a dark dragon. Estel would be chanceless against this power.

Unless, off course, he would be aided by a white dragon.

And therefore, Legolas and Lebenlhach now flew above the horror. What he saw, pained the elf. The Gondorians had been beaten back severely because of their fear for the dragon. Or the two dragons actually. They couldn't imagine how the so cursed creatures could be at their side. Desperately, Legolas sought for a way to tell them he wasn't a danger for them, but in vain. The soldiers just had to endure.

And stop shooting upon them.

Fortunately, the elf and the dragon had created a deep bond during their banishment. They could read each others mind and fight as one in the air. It was because of this union, neither Legolas nor Lebenlhach had been hit by an arrow –so far. But it made it more difficult to challenge the dark dragon, now that Legolas had to alert Lebenlhach for upcoming projectiles, and the dragon had to dodge continuously.

If only they could warn Estel…

The elf sat up and spied through the smoke. There!

"Lebenlhach! Right! The king!" Immediately, the great creature swerved towards the spot were Aragorn, Faramir and Eomer were fighting courageously, while trying to reorganise the ranks. The arrival of Lebenlhach didn't aid them actually. In horror, Legolas saw his friend span his bow… and lower it, with a perplexed expression on his face. The elf sighed relieved. Estel had seen him.

He waited a few seconds more to give Lebenlhach the time to float lower, then he yelled above the wind.

"Estel! Order your men to stop shooting at us!"

Intently, the king seemed to read the words of Legolas' lips, then nodded. He screamed something to Faramir, who let a clarion blare. The command was taken from group warriors to the other group. The cloud of arrows paled.

"Good," Legolas muttered, "now it's time to fight." His eyes found the black dragon.

* * *

><p>What happened next, has been told in many stories. They would survive long after the carcass of the dragon had turned into dust. They would be the favourite tales of young boys who were dreaming of a life as a knight, in a time of peace. They were glorious and famous.<p>

They told about two dragons, who clashed upon each other. Of roaring so loud, that hunters for months after the battle couldn't find a single animal in a range of ten miles around the fields. Of fire, burning the sky and the sun. Of heath, falling down upon the frozen soldiers. Of claws, magnificent, silver, scratching and jarring till they were red of blood. Of teeth as big as a man's arm, glittering in the fiery light of their breath. Of a furious, brotherly hate in their flaming eyes. Of the warrior-prince, glorious as the sun, with his bronzed spear and golden hairs.

But as in all great stories, the poets never looked down from their ivory tower. Their silken words were only devoted to the heroes, never to the victims. None of them ever mentioned one Gondorian boy, miles below the fight, who died by the sword of the one of the few Corsairs who had been able to tear their gazes away from the dragons.

* * *

><p>A red sunset. The bright jewel of heaven seemed to have absorbed the blood that has been spilled during the encircled the sun. Faraway, thunder rumbled. The first raindrops started to fall down.<p>

It was a curious sight.

They burst upon the bowed head of the elf, who was towering above the corps of a young, handsome soldier. He looked asleep. Only a dribble blood out of the corner of his slightly-opened mouth revealed something else.

The elf stood motionless, letting his mind run through the memories of their daily sparring. He had been so full of life. A sparkle of curiosity. A handful of cunning. A most concentrated look whenever Legolas explained a new trick. It had reminded him of Estel. He had liked the boy.

But now he was dead.

Legolas bowed his head even deeper and wept.

It was a curious sight.

The corps of the young boy. The motionless body of the standing elf. And the majestic dragon, who was holding his great wing above the two figures, protecting them from wind and rain.

It was the last sight the Gondorians could see, before the light waned.

**End**

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